


The Tar Planet

by BurnedStars777



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Dry Humping, Enemies to Lovers, Erections, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Making Out, Secrets, Sticky, Sweat, The Force, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-07 08:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnedStars777/pseuds/BurnedStars777
Summary: Rey and Kylo Ren encounter each other on a tar planet, and needless to say things get a little sticky.





	1. Chapter 1

Once, when she was eleven years old, Rey accidently slid into what could only be described as a vat of quicksand.

Really, she should have been more careful. The swirling, sinking sands of Jakku were already a force to be reckoned with, and she could only be testing the fates by sliding down the dunes.

Her makeshift sled was immediately encompassed, followed by the length of her legs, all the way up to her thigh. Here, it paused with a loud belch of suction, cementing her body in place.

She thrashed, stupidly, in her panic. The sand scaled up her thighs to hold her hips in place. She had to raise her arms as if she had wings.

With a pounding heart and flexibility she didn’t know she possessed, she bent forward, until her fingernails grasped the edge of solid ground.

It took her two hours until she was free, and when she was she was absolutely spent. It wasn’t the sand that almost killed her that day, but the sheer exhaustion of being held captive and struggling for release.

Point blank, Rey doesn’t like being stuck. To _anything. _

\--

_Ten years later. _

\--

Rey claps a hand to the back of her neck, wincing as she feels the splat of the horsefly against her skin. Never has she ever encountered insects like this, and she isn’t keen on doing it again.

_Two more miles, _she thinks.

Her trek has taken longer than planned. She probably shouldn’t have gone by herself. Leia was right, as usual. Poe had offered to join her, to scope out this tar planet where they had taken refuge, but Rey could tell his heart wasn’t in it. She can’t blame him. Poe is a damn good pilot, but on the ground, he seems a bit lost.

Not that it matters to her. Rey is used to being on her own.

She scowls as she swats at another fly, her feet trudging through the brownish clay. Finn would have gone with her. Even if she had refused, he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.

Rey pushes away the inane jealousy she feels that her friend is off with someone else. Someone new. As soon as Rose had awakened, Finn had promised he would stay by her side, his newfound purpose in the Resistance realized.

Rey is happy for him. She _is. _She doesn’t know Rose, but the engineer seems perfectly nice and capable. And Finn seems quite taken with her.

“Kriff,” Rey swears to herself as she stumbles, almost losing her balance from the slippery underfoot. She readjusts the grip of her staff-it is the only weapon she has with the legacy saber still in two. She slams one end into the soft ground and shifts her weight so she rises out of the wet earth and onto solid stone.

It is then she feels the vertebrae in her spine tingle.

Her breath rushes out of her, her throat immediately icy. There is an acute pressure at the base of her skull, a ringing in her ears. She twists her head, her jaw speckled with clay. Her eyes lock onto the shadow in the distance.

He is practically an outline in the mid-afternoon sky, his form cascading towards her effortlessly. He is alone. And he is angry.

The corner of Rey’s mouth twitches unpleasantly. But then again, when is he not?

She is too vexed to fully recognize it will not be a fair fight. Her staff is not saber resistant; he could cut her in two if he really wants.

As Kylo Ren stops in front of her, however, he does not immediately make a move for his lightsaber. His eyes are dark, furious, and his chin trembles with tension.

“It’s been some time.” The wind brushes a strand of dark hair against his cheek.

She does not answer.

His eyes latch onto the area over her left shoulder and then her right.

“You’re alone.”

“So are you.” She can’t resist rising to the bait.

“How did you find me?”

Rey told herself she would keep her reactions schooled when she encountered him again, yet this question throws her. She flinches, and then her eyes narrow.

“I thought _you _were looking for _me_.”

“I was.”

_He must not know about the base, _she realizes, and then puts a curtain over her thoughts. _Is the First Order here?_

“You should leave.”

“Or?”

“Or I will cut. You. Down.” Her tone is clipped, the sentence uttered through gritted teeth. She has spent weeks wondering what she would do if she were to meet him again, and now that she has; she still does not have an answer.

Kylo’s mouth quirks, and it’s the closest thing she has ever seen to a smile. His hand finally reaches for his saber.

“_You _should not be the one posing a threat.” His gloved fingers wrap around the hilt.

Quickly, Rey lashes out with her hand, shoving him back with the Force. It catches him off guard for a moment, and he stumbles, his right hand landing in the clay. Rey dashes to the side before he can recover, and kriff it all, she breaks into a run.

She leaps over the mud pit below onto the other side of the stone. She vaguely registers his hitched grunt, and she knows he is not far behind. They both stumble in the clay, the tar slowing their movements as it catches on their clothes and skin. The slim walkway of stone narrows, and Rey has to pay extra attention so she does not fall directly into the pit. Her staff swings by her side as she sprints, but then her instincts spring to life. Her feet skid along the rock as she comes to the ledge of stone. She has just enough time to peer over the edge before she feels him behind her.

She whips around. “Stop!” she cries, and there is a look of confusion on his face.

But he slows. And when he does, he is too close. Rey takes a hurried step back, and her stomach jumps as her staff unbalances her. She is going to fall.

Her mouth opens into the start of a silent yell, but then his hand curls around her left wrist, and she is suspended in a backwards slant.

They are both panting, their skin spattered with black clay from their chase. It is quiet, save for the occasional horsefly that buzzes by her ear, but right now Rey does not have the focus to slap it away.

_You saved me. Again._

Just a minute ago he was trying to kill her but now…

“Let go,” she says firmly, when she gathers her senses. She tries to tug her wrist away, and his body jolts with her. She has half a mind to smack him over the head with her staff.

_“Let go,” _she says again, harsher. She can feel his racing pulse through his glove, through to her wrist, and somehow this is the most disturbing part of their situation.

She watches as his nostrils flare, and his lips twist into a grimace, and then he ducks his head.

“I _can’t.”_

Rey doesn’t need to look down at her wrist to know he is right. She can feel the clay becoming crusted against her wrappings from the beating sun. They are melded together, and as she finally gives in and looks down, she realizes the clothing of their sleeves are so encased that she can hardly tell them apart.

She turns to him, enraged.

“Don’t,” he spits, cutting to the chase. “Or would you rather I had let you die?”

“Surely that alternative would have been better for you?” she fires back, although her fury has more to do with her confusion of the situation than anything else.

He doesn’t respond, but he exhales loudly through his nostrils. He is a mess. Wet tar drips from the ends of his hair, turning his raven tresses to ebony. His face is covered with gray, his tunic dusted over in half-dried mud. Rey is certain she looks no better.

He turns abruptly and begins dragging her with him.

“What are you doing?” Rey demands. When he ignores her, she swings her staff and aims for his head.

He has the foresight to duck, and then to wrestle the weapon from her hands and toss it into the pit below. Rey watches as her staff, the weapon she has had for most of her life, lands with a whimpering plop into the tar.

And just like that, what little resolve she has, breaks.

With a yell she swings at him, and this time he isn’t so swift. She clips him in the jaw, and he stumbles backwards, yanking her ungracefully with him. He lands on his rear, and Rey uses his hand that is joined with her to break her fall. He roars in pain, pushing her off. She grabs at his tunic, and then yanks her hand away at once, strings of tar coming with it. Her hair is more rat’s nest than human tendrils at this point, sticking to her neck and face in ugly clumps. Her limbs feel heavy as they are wrapped in clay, and she is suddenly assaulted with memories of quicksand.

She smacks at Kylo with an infuriated cry, until he pins that wrist down as well.

“Enough!” he roars, and she freezes.

There is a beat of silence, and then he curses.

He’s over her, his hands curled around her, the stone hard against her back. Her elbows are bent like ‘L’s,’ and his fingers are squeezing her wrists. Her anger fades and is quickly replaced by dread.

“Look what you’ve done,” Kylo hisses, and if she still had her fury to fuel her, she would have snapped something snarky back. Or at least she hoped she would have.

No, the fear that has been lying dormant in her mind is coming to the surface. She knows how something like this ends. It will be slow. It will be painful.

It could take days.

A droplet of sweat drips down his prominent nose and lands on her cheek. Rey is reminded of the blazing sun above them, quickly drying the thin layers of tar into place.

“Is this what I get for saving your life-”

“Kylo.”

“-Now I’m stuck here like a _fool-_”

“Ben.”

His jaw locks into place, and for a moment Rey thinks he is tempted to spit at her. But she knows him. He is not so low.

“Don’t move,” she tells him, keeping her voice measured despite the terror she feels. “We’re safe. At least while we’re on the stone. If the sun dries the tar enough, we should be able to break free of it.”

Another droplet of sweat lands. This time it is on her upper lip.

“And _how long _do you think something like that will take?” His voice is not nearly as measured. It would be comical, if anything about this situation were warranted of a laugh.

“Hopefully a couple of hours. But I don’t know,” she says honestly.

“A couple of _hours?”_

“I said I don’t know,” Rey snaps, temporarily losing her patience. She turns her head to the side as another bead of sweat lands on her cheek. Honestly, they’ve stopped scrapping, so why is he perspiring so? She grunts in pain as his weight presses further on her wrists.

She voices as much out loud. “Could you control yourself?”

Kylo grits his teeth. “Would you rather I rest?”

“What do you…” Rey glances down, and discovers what he means. He is currently hovering over her, his entire weight on two points on her arms. That, plus the constantly liquid flowing off his face is enough to drive her mad.

“It’s fine,” she says hurriedly, not stopping to think what this means. She winces as another shot of pain travels up the length of her arms. “Do it.”

He seems unsure, but a moment later his body sags, and he releases a whoosh of air that flies against her neck. His torso nearly engulfs her, and her face becomes red as his elbows rest against hers, their faces inches apart.

She watches him swallow, and suddenly she is the one that feels overly sweaty. She must reek something awful.

“So now we wait,” he grunts, purposefully avoiding her eye contact.

“So now we wait.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this story, you can’t lift clay with the Force, lol.

The first half-hour, they are silent.

Rey trains her eyes on the sky, watching as thin, wispy clouds form and reform, anything to keep from looking at him.

She caves at one point, just to see his reaction. As her eyes sweep his face, however, she realizes he’s glaring intently at her left shoulder.

When the forty-minute mark passes, the silence shatters.

“We should try to remove ourselves,” he says gruffly.

“No,” Rey responds, her eyes still attached to the clouds. “It hasn’t been long enough.” She cringes as she feels the bite of a horsefly on her calf.

Kylo huffs, and his breath fans out against her neck. “Don’t tell me you _want _to be like this.”

Rey’s cheeks turn pink. “Of course not!” She glares. “But I’d rather not put in the effort and land in a pit if it’s already doomed from the start.”

“Well _I’d-”_

“Just-just stop talking,” she interrupts, exasperated. 

The dumfounded look on his face is enough to incite mild confusion in Rey, until she realizes she has essentially just told the Supreme Leader of the First Order to shut up.

“Fine,” he grumbles, and his eyes lock back on her shoulder.

They do not speak for several minutes, save for the occasional exasperated noise from Rey. She is far less covered than the man pinning her, making her more susceptible to the bites of insects. She scrapes her right foot over the length of her left calf, successfully batting away more of the nasty biters.

And then one lands on the side of her neck.

Rey swears softly through gritted teeth, and despite both of her arms being pinned next to her head, she instinctually tries to lift one, to no avail. She feels the sharp sting of the bite, and she bites her lip in frustration. She’s going to go mad; she can feel it starting already.

Then, the top hairs on Kylo’s head trace against her chin, and his nose connects with the skin of her neck, effectively brushing the fly away. Rey instantly stiffens from head to toe, and as he lifts his head, she shivers.

Shudders. She _shuddered._

He must notice the movement, because he frowns. He mumbles something quickly, and if Rey didn’t know better, she would have assumed it was an apology.

She studies his face, watches as it turns from embarrassed to annoyed in a matter of seconds.

“We can’t just lie here like this,” he says, the corners of his mouth edging further downwards. “It’s maddening.”

“I’m not here by choice,” she replies coldly. When he doesn’t answer, she looks off in irritation. “What are you suggesting? Do you want to do something to pass the time?”

He sputters, and his ears turn bright red. “Don’t be stupid.”

Rey reddens because _he _does. “That’s not what I meant. Besides, I was _joking._”

“It wasn’t very funny.”

“Have you laughed even once in your life?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re irritating.”

“You’re impossible, _and _you smell like a half-dead bantha!”

“You’re not exactly a bed of roses yourself.”

“You should have just let me fall! I’ve gotten myself out of worse. I can handle myself.”

“Doubtful, since you’re clumsy enough to fall in the first place.”

“You shouldn’t have grabbed me!”

“I didn’t _plan _on grabbing you.”

“Oh, really? You didn’t _plan _it? Then why did you do it?”

“It was instinct!”

  
Rey opens her mouth to retort, but she pauses. “What do you mean?”

Kylo glares at her, but it doesn’t hold its usual fire. “I just did it,” he grumbles.

He goes back to his glazed staring, and just like that both of their fury dies down to mild irritation.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, staring at the fabric of his tunic. For the first time she notices gold etching interlaced in the black cloth.

He grunts.

“You don’t smell like a half-dead bantha,” she adds.

His lips waver, and Rey wonders what it would be like if he didn’t hold back a smile.

“You either.”

\--

Too soon, the sun sinks, and so does Rey’s stomach. The clay around their joints is thick and still partially wet, and when they eventually try to free themselves it is a lost cause.

_What do we do? _Rey thinks, renewed panic already edging into her mind.

“Why are you asking me?” Kylo bites, and it takes her a moment to realize her inquiry was out loud. “You said we could break free by now.”

“I said I didn’t know.” Rey takes a deep breath and closes her eyes to concentrate. She doesn’t know why she bothers; she already knows what to do next.

And he isn’t going to like it.

“Try and roll over.”

Kylo’s eyebrows furrow, but she can barely see it in the darkened sky. “There’s tar everywhere.”

“I know that, but you have to try. Be careful.”

“Why should I?”

“Try? Or be careful?”

“Both,” he snaps, his patience wearing thin.

“Because we’re going to have to sleep here,” Rey says, with as much calm as she can muster.

There is a beat of silence.

“What.”

Rey tenses. “We need a few more hours of sunlight. We’ll break free tomorrow morning; if you just-”

She stops herself when she feels Kylo’s lightsaber land next to her head. She watches as he turns it with the Force.

“What are you doing?” she asks incredulously.

“What I should have done hours ago.” With great strain, he angles the saber at their wrists.

Rey’s heart drops. “Are you _mad? _You can’t tell one arm from the other. You’ll sever us both!”

“No, I won’t.” But he sounds unsure.

“Ben. Don’t.” And then, she decides her pride must take a hit. “Please.”

He pauses, looking like he’s ready to argue again, but then she feels him relax, and she knows she’s swayed him. For now.

“So,” he says after a while, his voice sounding strange. Rey can only describe it as awkward. Awkward and uncomfortable. “How is this going to work?”

\--

It takes about twenty minutes for them to switch positions. There is a lot of teetering, much cursing, and by the time they have swapped, both are coated in a thick layer of sweat.

Rey thanks the Stars she doesn’t have to wee that badly.

She wriggles against him, making a frustrated noise as his hipbone jabs into her stomach. When she finally settles over him properly, it is pitch black, save for the white, soft glow of his pale skin. 

“Are you quite done?” he inquires through clenched teeth.

She jabs her hip into his pelvis, just to spite him. “Now I am.”

“Good.” His voice is unbelievably strained. She rolls her eyes. How dramatic. _Especially _after she’s been crushed by him all day!

“I’m not that heavy, you know,” she hisses, giving her limbs another shake to rid them of flies.

“Stop. Moving.”

Rey snorts, but she obeys his will, if only to get him to stop complaining. Eventually, and extremely reluctantly, she settles her head on his chest. His breathing is long and even, and she focuses on that, so she doesn’t have to focus on anything else.

When she opens her eyes the next morning, there is a terrible crick in her neck, and a stiffness against her thigh that they both ignore. With another great effort, they manage to release one of their joined arms. When Rey tries to tug the other one free, however, it sticks firmly in place.

“Roll over again,” Kylo instructs. “How we were before.”

“What will that do?” Rey questions. She uses the freedom of her left hand to scratch at the bites on the back of her neck.

“I can pull my hand from your wrist.”

“I’ve been trying that.”

“But I’m stronger.”

“Debatable,” she mutters.

Kylo shoots her an annoyed look, and then they begin the process of rolling again. It’s somehow worse than before, perhaps because Rey’s blush still hasn’t recovered from her discovery of the morning. Soon enough, however, they maneuver to their initial position. At least it’s a tad more bearable now that she has her arm back.

Kylo promptly tries to detach himself with no luck. Rey feels a surge of smugness in her chest at having proved him right, but something on his face keeps her from taunting him.

“What’s wrong?”

He gives her a blank stare. “Do you need to ask?”

“Aside from the obvious,” she amends. “There isn’t anything you could have done anyway, so you don’t have to sulk.”

She isn’t sure why she bothers consoling him. She’s done that in the past, and it hasn’t changed anything. Why start again now?

Despite her words, his sulking continues. “I thought I could spare you the trouble.”

“Of what?”

“Of continuing this.”

Rey regards him strangely. Why does he care what she thinks? Wasn’t all their arguing centered around the fact that he can’t stand her presence? That he wants to break free so he can stab her in the back once again? Perhaps they have too much history even for that.

She isn’t sure what to say, but she is spared from having to think of something. A horsefly lands on her cheek, and she lifts her hand, but he beats her to it. He uses the back of his gloved knuckles to feather along her cheek. It’s a soft touch, too soft, for someone like him to have.

“While these circumstances are…less than ideal,” he continues, the back of his hand still resting against her cheek, “I _am _glad I’ve found you.”

She gawks at him. 

“You’re dehydrated,” Rey reasons, blinking once, hard. “We’ve been out here for so long-”

“Aren’t you the least bit relieved to see me?” His tone is careful, and his index finger rises slightly. It is not quiet a stroke, but Rey will be damned before she identifies it as a caress.

She swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He removes his hand, but instead of laying it back by his side, he lifts it to his mouth. His teeth clamp around the space by his middle finger, and it one, slow motion he pulls it away to expose his hand. The soiled clothing item falls to the clay, forgotten.

“I think you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sauciness to come. And we all love sauce.


	3. Chapter 3

His hand reaches for her cheek again, but she holds his wrist, her dirty fingers wrapping around his nearly spotless, untouched skin. It singes her.

“Don’t,” she says sharply.

Kylo frowns. “Why not?”

“You know perfectly well, why not.”

The hand she holds tightens as his eyes become dark. “Don’t act as though you’re the one who’s been wronged here.”

“I bet you truly believe that, don’t you?” Rey shakes her head, the back of it brushing against the stone. Her chest becomes tight. “It could have been so different,” she whispers. “If you had come with me.”

“You should have stayed.”

“No.”

“Rey. You can still come back with me.”

“You know I can’t,” she responds, her voice choked, much to her dismay. “I won’t leave my friends.”

His face twists with disdain, but he sobers after a moment. “Maybe it was never meant to happen. The vision.” His hand goes slack in her grip. “Maybe it all should have died with Snoke.”

“It should have,” Rey agrees.

“But it didn’t.”

Rey finally lets go of his wrist, her hand too shaky to properly hold onto it. “No. It didn’t,” she agrees.

She watches as the breeze ruffles the ends of his hair. They sweep across his face and touch the corner of his mouth.

“You want to ask me something,” he says. It’s not a question.

She shakes her head. “I’m tired of talking.”

“Ask it anyway.”

He’s staring at her so intently that Rey is momentarily speechless. She can feel the jumble of his emotions, barely concealed in his mind. She can feel them wanting to break free. To shatter the thing binding him.

“What would happen?” Rey asks so quietly, that she knows he can’t have possibly heard her. She takes a breath. “What would you do? If you had it your way? If I…went with you?”

This time, when he reaches for her face, she does not stop him. His thumb applies a bit of pressure to her cheekbone, his long fingers curling around the back of her head. And then _he _becomes tired of talking.

When he kisses her, for one moment Rey thinks of pushing him away. But then she feels the softness of his mouth, almost clumsy in its uncertainty.

If neither of them will leave their respective sides, then maybe this is the only time they can both give in.

Rey shuts her eyes, moving her lips gently. The sensation is strange, and she is unpracticed. Loneliness on Jakku manifested in many forms.

He applies more pressure with his mouth when he feels her respond, and Rey is spurred to increase her movements. Her top lip glides along a bit of dried clay on his face, and she is reminded that they are both filthy. And then his tongue slides into her mouth, and she can’t remember much of anything.

His bare fingers dig gently into her scalp, his glued hand sliding her arm above her head. The position is strangely exciting, and Rey’s stomach flips. Her free hand finds a place on his chest, running along the fabric untouched by mud.

Kylo presses into her, and Rey recognizes the stiffness against her thigh. Before it surprised her, disgusted her even, but now she shivers when it brushes against her core. At the sensation, he makes a noise in his throat, and another flip of her stomach encourages her to move her legs apart.

As his tongue slides along hers, he has started a rhythm with his hips, and every once in a while the feeling is beyond words. Rey’s eyes remain closed, but when she moves her other hand to tangle in his hair, she discovers they are free from one another. Literally, at least. 

Neither of them intends to fully separate.

His hand, the one that is bare, glides over her stomach to the place that feels like it is burning. He runs his middle finger experimentally over the off-white fabric of her bottoms. She sighs softly against his mouth, and he chooses then to detach his lips, bringing them to her ear.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“What?” Rey breathes, although she is not so ignorant to not know what he means.

“Can I touch you here?” he questions, and she vaguely wonders if there was ever a time when Kylo Ren asked for anything, much less this.

She nods. She shuts her eyes, her body tense as his hand slips underneath her clothing. The pads of his fingers connect with the place between her legs the exact moment his mouth finds her neck. Her lips part in surprise.

Her fingers weave into his hair as he moves in tight circles, his lips sucking hard enough to leave a mark. At one point he dips his hand lower and curses.

“What’s wrong?” Rey questions breathily, opening her eyes.

She can’t see his face from where she is, but she can see his shoulders shiver.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, moving back to her mouth.

Then she feels his fingers press inside her, and she bites her lip when she discovers what he means. The way his fingers slide so easily makes her raise her hips. The inside of her underwear is completely soaked.

Soon she’s gripping his shoulders tightly as he plunges his fingers, her gasps muffled into the side of his neck. When he licks the shell of her ear she feels herself come undone, her breath escaping her in one high-pitched _oh. _His fingers are relentless, moving inside of her until her tremors subside.

When she sees his face again, his eyes are dark. Rey licks the salt from her lips; she can still taste him on her tongue. Feeling bold, she runs her hand over the bulge in his pants, and his breath hitches.

He twitches beneath her touch, and she blushes a deep red, realizing the effect she has on him. “Do you…do you suppose we should…?”

She doesn’t finish the question, and thankfully she doesn’t need to. He knows exactly what she means. Their mouths find each other again, hotter, firmer than before. She digs her thumbs into the band of her pants, shuffling them down as he removes his other glove. His hand trails up her side, over her breast, cupping her lightly. His thumb rubs over her clothed nipple, and she finds the area is strangely sensitive. He braces one hand on the ground next to her head and bends down to her ear once more.

“Tell me you want this just as much as I do.”

His other hand trails to his pants.

She swallows. “I do.”

He releases a low groan, and after a moment of rustling, she feels the tip of him pressed against her entrance. He enters her impossibly slowly, and by the way his shoulders shake, he is using every bit of his control. Rey wonders why he bothers to touch her this way. Why doesn’t he pleasure himself and be done with it? Although his mannerisms perplex her, she can’t say she minds. Quite the opposite actually.

There is a prick of pain, a moment of tension, and then it feels as though they have done this a million times before. The way her body turns to accommodate his seems familiar, the things he whispers in her ear seem second nature.

Her toes begin to curl when he reaches his hand back down to play with her clit, his movements becoming desperate. She hears herself moaning his name, his true name, and her voice sounds wanton, otherworldly, herself and not herself at the same time.

When she cries out again she clenches around him, her fingers digging into his back. A few moments later his panting quickens and his body relaxes, and she feels something warm and sticky between her legs. He bends down, kisses her shoulder, leaves a small mark. They are still connected when he asks her, begs her really, one last time to come with him.

“I can’t,” she whispers, and her eyes fill with tears because now she knows what it could be like; now she knows once isn’t enough.

He looks defeated, but unsurprised. “I know,” he says and then removes himself.

They dust themselves off, standing properly for the first time in hours. Rey suddenly feels awkward, and she isn’t sure what is to come next. Do they fight again? Do they say goodbye?

Kylo watches her, gives her a look he hasn’t before. Then he extends his hand away from her, and after three beats of silence, her staff, one end completely covered in tar, comes sailing into his grasp. He adjusts his grip on the clean end, holding it out to her.

Rey takes it from him silently. He gives her a nod, and even though the gesture is curt, his eyes are pained, and they hold an intimacy she knows neither of them can take back at this point.

She watches him walk until he disappears over the horizon. A breeze picks up and carries his forgotten gloves away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking this walk of pure guilty pleasures with me.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Tumblr for Reylo memes! Look under Okaaragem 
> 
> :)


End file.
